Cassius "Common thieves are tried and hung, Maron Barosh, not killed out of hand." Hui stepped forward and looked down at the woman. "Perhaps not so common, after all." He mused. Cassius knelt by the intruder, whilst giving Hui a look that said, "See, you shouldn't have invited the monster along." She had a pretty frame...that was covered in blood. Apparently she'd put up quite a fight against Maron. Something no ordinary intruder would have been able to do. He noted some sort of sand colored dust on her clothing. He tasted a bit of it and his eyes lit up in immediate recognition. "Sleeping powder...why would she use sleeping powder on herself. Maybe one of her potions broke." Cassius mused. "Anyone know any healing magic? She's sure to die if we don't get the bleeding to stop soon." He looked he intruder over, "You know Hui, anyone who can last any amount of time against Maron is bound to be a grand addition to our group. Wouldn't you say? Not too mention it would give us another pretty face to look at, unlike that ugly mug of yours." Cassius grinned impishly at Hui. Despite whatever situation...he somehow managed to make a joke of something. He stood and began strumming on his lyre again whilst waiting for his companion's answers.
Maron Barosh ~The Marauding Berserker~ "Let the Queens of the Sun gaze down in sorrow as I drown their lands in blood!" The axe thudded to the ground, impaling deep into the bosom of nature. Maron watched as the bard tried to stop the bleeding, and grimaced. “Move aside welp. She chose to die like a rat, scheming and sneaking.” Maron brooded over this man’s attempt to save the thief, and in his maddened rage he stepped forward to shadow out the light. The barbarian towered darkly over the pair and held his stare, waiting until the silence begged to break. The bard would not move though. Even the birds under the oak tree had fled their nest, and the servants of the house were distant, frightened memories. Sunlight glinted off Isabella and through his rage Maron had grasped her once more. “In the eyes of the Queens above, she has betrayed herself. Let her bleed.” But the bard would not budge. And Maron’s veins began to bulge. Fists tore together, shaking, glowing. “Move aside!”
The Undying Desert: Temple of the Desert Wind Abathur Lark It was a tall sandstone spire that reached high into the air in a lonely part of the desert, isolated by vast swath of arid dunes. The temple stood solitary, a testament to a fallen but still remembered god, The Desert Wind. Thousands of years ago, the first prophet had set foot out into the world, preaching the will of the immortal wind. He had evangelized throughout the desert, and built the Spire, a monument to his god. Thousands of years later, this tower built on the sand still stood. Inside, the high preist, Abathur, took a step through the threshold and out onto the high terrace, the balcony at the very pinnacle of the spire. From it, he could see the dunes that stretched for miles around, and the small village built around the well at the base of the spire. Taking a deep breath, he reached into his robes and removed a small bag, and poured some of it's contents into his hand. The fine sand started slipping through his fingers, but with an incantation and a shout, he tossed it out to the air, letting the wind take it. Just as he threw it, there was a gust of wind that took the sand and blew it out into the air in a swirl. "Speak to me! God of the winds!" he cried as the dust swirled back at him, stinging his eyes. But still, he kept them open. Suddenly, there was a hiss, and to the eyes of Abathur, the world changed. The sun was blotted out, and the palace of the grand consul appeared before him. Everywhere there was whipping wind, swirling the sand. It felt like hours passed, and Abathur saw a great many things. When it finally passed, he stood still on the balcony of the Spire. "Elzid!" he shouted. "Elzid come to me!" From the threshold a young man appeared, looking timid. "Yes master Abathur?" "Lead me to my chambers, the wind has given me vision, but taken my sight," Abathur replied, then turned around. His eyes were bloodshot, and bloody tears dripped from them. "Master! Are you alright!" Elzid exclaimed. "Don't worry, I'm fine, and my sight will return. But not for a while yet. Please, take me to my chamber. I have much to think about," Abathur said, not unkindly. Elzid approached him, and took his arm, then led him down the stairs to his chambers. "Please master, if there is anything you require, I will be waiting outside," Elzid said once they reached Abathurs chamber. "No you won't," Abathur replied. "You shall be riding at full speed to the capitol. Take the fastest steed you can find, and ride for the Grand Consul. There you will find a man named Arabu. Bring him here with all speed my son. Do you understand?" "But, mas-" "This is not something that I can explain to you, but you must do as I ask," Abathur said as he took a wet cloth to his eyes, wiping away the blood. "Yes master. I will go..." Elzid said, reluctantly. Once he was gone, Abathur sat down on his bed. "Balefore, you fool," he hissed.
Saif-Al-Rahmen Hui Shariah Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Hui clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes slightly at Cassius's suggestion. Spare him the enthusiasm of a poet and the trusting nature of a minstrel. This journey wasn't a pleasant little adventure; it was a mission that could change the fate of the entire Empire. Hui was not going to trust some random thief in their party, especially when he already had to deal with a barbarian brute and a strange witch. The young noble was just about to voice his disagreement when Maron, the giant Plainsmen, voiced his own. Rather than speaking up right away, Hui took a moment to assess Maron, and his apparent displeasure over the situation. This was a man who killed his enemies, and any who crossed him, even seemingly incompetent thieves. That ruthlessness could come in handy later. For now, however, it just served to aggravate an already tense situation. "Stand down, Maron." Hui ordered. While his tone made it clear he expected to be obeyed, he was unsure if Maron would listen to him. True, Hui had released Maron from prison, and was obviously in charge of this expedition; but then again, Maron was about three times his size and obviously a more experienced warrior. Rather than allow a tense silence to develop as he waited to see what Maron could do, Hui continued the illusion that he believed Maron would obey him. He called for one of his servants, a tall and lanky man who had served Hui's grandfather. "Take this thief, tend to her wounds, and put her in the oubliette. Keep her there until I return." The man bowed, but wisely waited to see if Maron would step back before moving toward the unconscious girl. "Be she a thief or spy, she will find no buyer for what she has learned." He mused aloud, in case anyone questioned the wisdom of locking a stranger in his family dungeon, rather than handing her over to the authorities. She had been in Hui's rooms, where he kept secrets that best kept concealed. Information he had used to bribe and blackmail other nobles; clues to finding the Dragon that Hui did not want to share with anyone, especially those who might find it in their best interest to try to beat him to the chase. Even if she had been so incompetent that she allowed herself to be caught, and then was foolish enough to knock herself out with her own sleeping powder, she could still pose a threat to Hui's position and mission. The young noble turned to the Plainsmen and looked up, and up, until he could see Maron's face. "Maron Barosh, this is Cassius, our minstrel. I suggest you learn to get along." The last thing their journey needed was more moments like this one. "We leave first thing in the morning; perhaps you should constrain your enthusiasm until we are actually on the road." He added, slightly sarcastically. There would be plenty of opportunities to kill people and fight things on the journey. Especially near the end, when they entered the Ra'Shala pass. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.First quote by Salvadori Dali. Second quote by Margaret Mead
Amemiko "Your silence will not protect you." ~Audre Lorde The steady chanting of the priests filled the wood paneled chamber, as row upon row of Servants swayed to the rhythmic mantra. The priests were positioned in circular rows around a central point in the middle of the seven sided room. In each of the room's corners stood a pedestal, on which rested a sample of one of the essential elements; air's pedestal appeared empty, while a ball of lightning floated above another. Across the room from the door, near the back of the hall, Amemiko knelt contentedly, her voice rising to join the lyrical Affirmation of Yu Neith, a prayer that was repeated daily. Today was a special day, however, and the Prayer had been repeated for several hours now, and would continue to be chanted for several hours more. Twilight drew around the peaceful Temple complex, with only the rise and fall of the priests' voices breaking the silence. As the Prayer reached its final recitation, Amemiko opened her eyes. Only to see dragon shapes burst out of each of the seven pillars. Like fire and rain they came, sparkling with lightning and shimmering in gold, one dragon for each element. The other priests had noticed them by now, and screamed fill the space that joyous chanting had just left. Barriers appeared around half a dozen priests, and were shattered as a dragon of the opposing element attacked. In the far back corner, Amemiko was forgotten just long enough to build a dual barrier of fire and water. It gave her a small moment of peace as the elemental dragons attacked everyone in sight. Just long enough for her to notice one startling fact - there was no life in the dragons, not even the Spark expected for any sample of an essential element. She had never felt anything so empty as the space the dragon spirits filled. A dragon, she couldn't tell what kind, launched itself at her barrier, and her moment of peace was over. Through the sparks generated whenever her barrier was attacked, Amemiko watched as the Servants of Yu Neith were slaughter by dragon shaped elemental forms without even the barest trace of life-sustaining Spark. One by one, any remaining barrier was torn down or shattered, and one by one, each Servant met his or her death at the hands of a dragon spirit. Her back pressed against the wall, a faltering barrier her only protection, Amemiko watched in silence as her friends and teachers died. She was too shocked to cry out, to afraid to scream, and far too horrified look away. Her barrier was the last to fall, and Amemiko could only watch as the dragon spirits wheeled around and faced toward her, all seven of them. Her mouth opened, but no scream issued forth. When the dragon's reached the circle, they vanished, as something, she was not sure what, burst forth. There was no light, no sound and no motion, but Amemiko was certain something had come from the center of the room, from the circle no priest ever crossed. And then the dragons were gone. A feeling washed over the young priestess, of great power unlike any she had ever felt before. As she crumpled a single thought filled her mind. Pure gold eyes. A small sigh escaped her lips as she blacked out. “I would exchange a city for a sunset, The tramp of legions for the wind’s wild cry, And all the braggard thrusts of steel triumphant for one far summit, blue against the sky.” ~ Marie Blake
Cassius Strahan ~The Traveling Minstrel~ "Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent." Cassius stood silently as Hui introduced him to Maron. He nodded his head in greeting, but eyes clearly showed the distrust he had for this beast of a man. Even after 6 years of knowing Hui, his young friend never ceased to surprise him. Who would have thought their long talks by the fireplace would lead to this moment. A quest for the mother of all dragons. Cassius nodded to Hui and the others around him. "I am going to visit the gardens one last time. I will see you in the morning, Hui. Then our journey will finally begin." The traveling minstrel turned away and walked down the cobblestone road. His lyre bounce lightly on his back as stepped. It wasn't long before the most beautiful sight in the city came into view. A large flower garden. He loved this place. It reminded him of his first love, Adeline, and how she always seemed to have a flower in her hair. Alas, she had been stolen away by his brother...and the pain had taken many years to fade. Perhaps he visited these gardens in search of one he could love again as he had Adeline. Or perhaps it was because the beauty of the flowers and their many colors inspired the most inspiration for his songs. Maybe it was a combination of both. Either way, he came today because he knew it would likely be the last time he ever saw their beauty again. Though he planned on surviving and returning, he realized that this journey was perilous, and they very likely wouldn't return from it alive.
Talahari Den Kinodoko The Lone Watcher "Never think you are alone. The trees have ears, birds have eyes, and I have both to heed and record your words." Talahari groaned as she woke up, turning away from the painful shaft of sunlight that blazed over her eyes. Her body tensed as she realized that the was no longer lying in the soft earth of the flowerbed she had been flung into by the barbarian, but instead the hard, cold stone of a place indoors. A cell. Great. she wanted to grumble, but couldn't help the sigh of relief that came from her. So apparently she hadn't been killed. Wondering how that miracle had come about, she opened her eyes and sat up, rubbing at her forehead. Glancing up, she spied a tri-beam of sunlight pouring through the bars of a tiny window set high into the brick wall, the tips of the emerald blades of grass the only thing of the outside she could see other than open sky and the branches of a low-growing bush. Standing and brushing off her clothes, she winced as the bandages tied firmly about her torso squeezed her bruised ribs. Not only had she lived, someone had taken the time to tend to her wounds. Well, if they expect me to stick around long enough for them to torture me for information, they better think again. Turning, she faced a wall of iron bars, the only thing distinguishing an escape the lock on a reinforced door. Her lip curled in a sneer. Did they really think she was that bad of a spy? Pathetic. Looking around and pacing the perimeter of her cell, Talahari searched the floor for any flash of metal or a thick enough stick to use. Instead, she found redemption in the small bush just outside her window. It had probably been grown as to hide the window from outside view, but the gardener apparently hadn't thought of the repercussions of what might happen should a skilled person take advantage of their carelessness. Taking several big steps backward, Talahari ran at the back wall and kicked off of the floor, grabbing at the bars in the window and grunting in pain when her body slammed against unforgiving stone. "Eh?" a male voice muttered, and she heard the scrape of something wooden moving. Guard. Groping, she snatched at the bush's limbs, her fingertips brushing the leaves. The footsteps came closer, and she jammed her shoulder through the bars in the window, frantically reaching for a limb that was about as thick as her pinkie. Come on come on! The branch snapped and Talahari allowed her weight to drag her down to the floor just as the guard stepped in front of the bars. His eyes narrowed as he examined her, but she had been careful to fall in such a way that would leave the twig hidden beneath her. Gritting her teeth and allowing a look of hatred come to her eyes, Talahari spat in the guard's direction, and he smiled grimly. "Ye won't be gettin' out of here easily thief. You're lucky master Hui let's ye live this long, so get comfortable." the man sneered, walking away, the jangling of keys tantalizing her ears as he twirled them around one finger. Really? she thought slyly, her eyes narrowing to slits and a thin smile quirking her mouth as she pushed herself off of the floor, the branch dangling loosely between two fingers. She waited an hour and, once she heard the tell-tale snore coming from the bored guard -for she had done nothing else of interest- she made her move. Standing up silently on her heels, she padded to the cell door and jammed the twig into the keyhole. Twisting it and tilting occasionally, it took several minutes until she heard a click and the door slid an inch or so to one side on well-oiled troughs. Tossing the branch back into the cell carelessly, she stepped out into a long hallway. There were no other prisoners from what she could see, and the guard was sleeping at a table, the lantern near his head flickering on its last dregs of oil. The doorway leading out was up a flight of stairs behind him. She passed the man by with no incident, but stiffened when he snorted and stirred once. Cautiously tip-toeing up the stairs, she placed her hand on the door-knob, twisted smoothly, and peeked out the narrow crack she had made. Making sure her path was clear, she slipped away, swift as a shadow through the household.
Maron Barosh ~The Marauding Berserker~ "Let the Queens of the Sun gaze down in sorrow as I drown their lands in blood!" They had all defended her. her. The demon of darkness; the shadow lurker. Why would they not want this thief dead? She tried to take that which was not hers. And yet, they treated her no worse than a stray dog. The axe plunged into the ground once more, and Maron gave a bewildered moan. “You tower slaves are strange. Those that sneak and hide in the shadows are welcome guests in your home. Blood should have been shed today!” The giant grunted, threw a house servant to the floor and took off towards the gate. ‘Tower slaves’ were the name tribesmen gave to city folk, believing that these places were sucking the souls of the people. The cities were known as ‘Bak’ra’, huge lumbering demons who block the moon’s light, and have shadows deep in their veins. That is why Maron made his way through to the edge of Logoth, so he could rest with the Kings watching above.
[COLOR="#00345"]|Balefore Lark[/COLOR] ~The Charismatic Madman| The last few days had been spent making final preparations, purchasing supplies, buying horses. There were also some other, less obvious preparations being made. Balefore had made sure that his exact location would not be known, arranging for his delegation, made up mainly of his loyalists to proceed with their tours of the plains. It would be several weeks before his trail was picked up, just like he planned. Now, as he dropped from the balcony of the Embassy Inn wearing a beggars cloak, all that was left to do was meet Lavanya at the stables. He hit the ground gracefully and quietly. Then, he ducked into the shadows and moved quickly through the empty streets. He had only his cloak, a small pack, and a saber tied at his waist, the sheath muffled with a rag. His sandy hair and face were covered with a scarf. He soon reached the edge of the city, and finding a hut built up against the wall, scaled it. Then he jumped, grabbed on to the edge of the wall and vaulted over, landing in a crouch in the grass on the other side. Granted, he could have simply walked out through the gate, but he didn't want to risk being seen. And besides, Balefore had always had a flair for the dramatic. Nearby was the stable, along with the horses he'd procured. The supplies were already loaded onto one of the beasts, the other two already saddled and tacked, ready to go. Looking off at the horizon, Balefore saw the faint light of dawn, the first fire, as they called it in the desert. Or, the Graying, as Lavanya called it, a decidedly Pohoni expression. But with the dawn coming, it wouldn't be long before she arrived, she seemed the punctual type. Balefore found a concealed spot near the stable, and waited patiently for the Pohonian mercenary to arrive.
